“You want me to help clean up, now?” Jeb asked.
“No.” Matt cleared the frog from his throat. “Why don’t you go see what Miss Caroline is doing inside. I’ll take care of the cleanup.”
Then he had some research on guide dogs for the blind to do, if Caro would let him use her P.C., and log him on to the Internet. By the time Savannah came to pick up Jeb, Matt would be ready to talk to her.
About dogs, and about guns.
Matt hadn’t been able to get a moment alone with Savannah on Friday night. She’d been in a hurry and hardly stepped out of her car before Jeb hopped in and they’d taken off. But he’d made sure he would get another chance today, Sunday, even if he had had to sit through an hour of pure torture to do it.
Carl Winters, Sweet Gum Baptist Church’s long-time minister, said the last amen, and Matt burst out the chapel’s wide double doors and into the sunshine with a hallelujah of his own. He’d been suffocating in there, and not from the heat.
Caroline elbowed him. “Would you quit trying to look so relieved that it’s over,” she said sternly, but her grin ruined the effect.
He searched the departing crowd for Savannah. “Sorry.” He spotted her in the shade of a copse of elm trees with picnic tables underneath, talking to one of the ladies from the choir. For as long as he could remember, the congregation had gathered under those trees after services for a little socializing. It looked as if Savannah had taken up the custom.
“You were fidgeting more than Jeb in there.”
Content that Savannah wasn’t getting away, Matt turned his attention back to his wife. “I felt a little out of place.”
“You look fine.”
“I didn’t mean the clothes.” In the old days, he’d never gone to church without suit and tie, but he hadn’t packed anything nicer than jeans and some golf shirts for his “short” trip to Sweet Gum.
“If you’re so uncomfortable, you didn’t have to come.”
“Yes, I did.”
“Still think I need protecting from Gem? It’s been a week. No one’s seen or heard from her.”
And Matt could hear his wife’s disappointment over that in her voice. “Doesn’t mean she won’t show up again,” he said.
“And it doesn’t explain why you’re suddenly uncomfortable in a place meant to help people find peace.”
“Guess I’m not much for preaching these days,” he admitted.
“You haven’t been going to church?”
“No.” It’d been a long time since he’d spent his Sundays polishing the church floor with his knees. A long time since he’d prayed.
Even longer since he’d gotten an answer.
Her cornflower-blue skirt swirling modestly around her knees, Caroline strolled across the grass toward the gathering of townsfolk. Hailey’s carrier swung from the crook of her elbow.
“Blaming God for what happened?” she asked without meeting his eyes.
“Maybe.”
“God isn’t responsible for Brad’s death. He gave man free will—”
The anger exploded out of him with the speed and force of a gunshot. “Free will? Free will explains drunk-driving accidents, and gangs that prey on the elderly and wives that stay with abusive husbands until someone ends up dead. But free will does not explain a tornado that drops a house down on top of a car with two sober teenagers in it. It doesn’t explain Alzheimer’s disease. And it sure as hell does not explain a cancer that starts in a little boy’s bone marrow and methodically destroys every other system in his body. So don’t lecture me about free will, or God’s plan, because I don’t believe in God anymore.”
He looked back toward the door of the church where the minister still stood shaking hands with exiting parishioners. “At least not Reverend Winter’s version.”
“Matt…” She stopped and looked up at him, her eyes wide and shocked. She put her hand on his arm.
“Don’t.” He shook off the touch, kept walking. “Just don’t.”
She would have followed, he was sure, if the Petersons—Gem’s foster parents—hadn’t called to her just then. Or maybe he’d scared her enough that she’d finally decided to leave him alone. Before he could decide which, he found himself standing beside Savannah. Jeb sat at one of the tables, idly drawing pictures on the wood with his finger.
“Can I talk to you?” He pulled Savannah away from the crowd.
“What is it? Is something wrong?” Her face blanched. “Have you heard something about Thomas?”
“No. Do you have a gun?”
Calm settled softly on her fine ebony features. “Yes.”
“With a kid in the house? Are you crazy?” His voice was far more strained than the conversation deserved.
Savannah looked over at Jeb, checking that he was out of earshot. “After what Thomas did, I’d be crazy not to have a gun.”
A measure of his temper fizzled out like air from a leaky tire. “I can understand you needing to protect yourself, but a gun could get you in trouble. And could get Jeb dead.”
“It’s a legally licensed handgun. I even have a permit to carry it as a concealed weapon in Texas. At all times, it is either in my purse in my direct possession or hidden in the house. And Jeb doesn’t know it exists.”
“Really.” Matt folded his arms across his chest. “I suppose he doesn’t know that your hiding place is a box under your bed, then.” He could tell by the shock in her eyes that she really didn’t know Jeb knew.
“It’s all right,” she said.
“The hell it is. Do you know how many kids are killed every year by guns their parents don’t think they know exist?”
“No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”
“Damn right.” Except that he didn’t know the exact statistics himself. He just knew it was too many. One was too many. “I don’t want to see Jeb get hurt.”
Her eyes flashed dark lightning. “Maybe if you didn’t use up all your concern on Jeb, you’d have a little left for your own child.”
Matt rocked back as if he’d been slapped. Savannah reached out, touched his forearm in much the same way Caroline had a few moments ago. Her fingers trembled.
“Oh, I am sorry. That was uncalled-for.”
“Not really.” The breath slowly seeped back into Matt’s lungs.
“No. You’ve been wonderful to Jeb, and I’m grateful.”
“I’m…fond of him.” A lot more than fond, if Matt was honest about it. He’d thought his hide was tough as buffalo leather by then, but somehow, Jeb had gotten under his skin. What surprised Matt even more was that having him there felt good.
Savannah squeezed his arm once, then removed her hand. “He likes you, too.”
“I’m worried about him.”
“I can see that. But it really is all right. The gun is in a box with a combination lock. Even if Jeb learned the combination somehow, he couldn’t see the numbers to open it. I—I just didn’t want him to know I’d bought a gun. I didn’t want him to be frightened.”
He exhaled a long breath. He had to give her credit. At least she’d put some thought into her hiding place. He still couldn’t picture noble, sophisticated Savannah holding a weapon on a man, though.
“Do you even know how to use it?”
“I took lessons. And I practiced.” She lifted her chin. The corners of her mouth turned up a bit. “I think I’m a pretty good shot.”
Of course. She was a survivor. Her and Jeb both.
He sighed. “Let’s hope you never have to prove that.”
“Amen to that, Matthew. Amen to that.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets, stared at his toes a moment, then lifted his gaze to hers. “Well, then. Now that’s settled, tell me what you know about golden retrievers.”
“What were you and Savannah having such a deep conversation about?” Caroline asked, watching Matt thrum his fingers on the steering wheel as he maneuvered his way through a Sweet Gum traffic jam—two cars at a stop sign—on the way t
o the county juvenile facility. Her request to visit the twins had finally been approved.
“It’s a surprise,” he answered.
She raised her eyebrows. “A surprise? My, my. Aren’t you the mysterious one.”
“A surprise for Jeb. Maybe. I don’t want to talk about it until I know it will work out.”
“Fine.” She turned her head to look out the side window, away from him, trying not to be miffed that her best friend and her ex-husband were in on a surprise she knew nothing about.
She should be glad Matt and Savannah got along so well. She cared about both of them. She should be even happier that Matt showed an interest in Jeb.
Matt had made so much progress in the past few weeks. He hardly ever tensed up around Jeb anymore. And if he watched the boy a bit wistfully when he didn’t know she could see, at least he was able to look. There’d been a time when just the sight of a child would have made him turn his head.
He hadn’t even argued too vehemently about accompanying her to county juvenile today to see Max and Rosie, who’d been placed back in protective custody after Gem’s abandonment.
Apparent abandonment, she corrected herself. The facts weren’t all in yet, and she wasn’t going to condemn the girl without hearing her story.
If she ever turned up to tell her story.
But those worries were for another day. This afternoon was a bright, sunny Sunday—God’s day—and the day she would see her favorite twins.
It was also a good day for a test.
Matt pulled into a parking space in front of the nondescript brick building that housed the area’s homeless children. As they climbed out and Caroline unbuckled Hailey’s combo car seat and carrier from the back, a brisk wind popped and cracked the Texas flag flying overhead. The glass door in the front of the building opened and a robust woman, Mrs. Curtis, the twins’ caseworker, stepped out.
Two pairs of eyes peeked out from behind her legs. Then two voices squealed delight, and four feet pounded the sidewalk toward Caroline. Caroline clapped and bit her lip in joy.
With the twins just steps away, she turned to Matt, handed him the baby carrier—baby strapped inside—and said, “I’d like to visit with the twins alone awhile. Why don’t you take Hailey for a walk?”
She timed the transfer perfectly, Matt realized, recognizing a setup when he saw one. He didn’t have time to object before the twins were all over her, screaming and giggling and hugging.
One of them, Rosie, he thought, said something that sounded like “Abracadabradabradabra,” and Max—at least he thought it was Max—answered, “Shazzazzam.” Then they nodded at each other, jumped up into Caroline’s arms and were off to the playground.
Resigned to his fate, Matt watched until they got inside, then looked around for a nice place to sit out Caroline’s family reunion. It wasn’t that he minded taking care of Hailey for a few minutes. It was just…oh, hell. He had no idea.
Zeroing in on a shady area in the grass under an elm tree, he made for the spot. Might as well make himself comfortable. Judging from the way Caroline had beamed at those kids when they’d come running toward her, he was going to be here awhile.
Leaving him and Hailey alone together.
God.
He set the carrier down and stretched out next to her. Propped up on one elbow, he picked a blade of grass and rolled the stem between his lips. He wasted a good ten minutes studying the bark on the tree. Another five following the retreating path of an ugly, eight-legged insect whose afternoon Matt was sure he’d ruined, by moving into the little guy’s territory. Figured he could while away five more checking the clouds in the sky for signs of rain.
Except there weren’t any clouds in the sky.
Spitting out the grass he’d chewed to paste, he finally looked into the carrier.
And the most amazing thing happened: his daughter looked back. She perused his countenance with the same blend of curiosity and aversion with which he had studied that insect a few minutes ago.
“Yeah, I know,” he said, his voice surprisingly scratchy. “I’m about as low as that bug, right?”
She swung her fist at him in agreement.
“Hey, watch it. I might not be much, but I’m all you’ve got for a dad, kiddo.”
She opened her mouth and giggled at him. A little spit bubble blew up right over the tiny white nubs of two new front teeth.
“Hey, it wasn’t that funny.”
She laughed, bursting her bubble.
“I’m not kidding now. Quit laughing at your old man.” A smile grew on his face, too. It widened until his cheeks ached. He hadn’t used those smiling muscles much, lately.
Suddenly something more interesting caught her attention. Her gaze zigged left, then zagged right, tracking a small butterfly. Or maybe it was a big moth. One of those flitty little yellow things that were all over the place in the summer.
Hailey cooed and reached up for it with both arms. She thrust, the butterfly parried. The butterfly moved in close, she drew back, eyes wide.
Matt watched the beauty of the dance in silent amazement. Hailey’s cheeks pooched and she blew another bubble while her partner pirouetted overhead. She kicked her legs while the winged creature dive-bombed her sanctuary.
Then she stared in wide-eyed, innocent fascination as the butterfly lit on the handle of her carrier.
“Ohhahh,” she said.
“Yeah. Ohhahh.”
The butterfly winged off, and Hailey’s lower lip wobbled. Matt reached over to pull back her lightweight blanket, give her some more air, and more pretty things to look at, but she reached out and grabbed his finger.
He looked down at his daughter’s emerald green, intelligent eyes, her translucent cheeks, marbled by tiny purple veins, the spikes of dusty blond hair sticking up on either side of her head, and a rush of emotion flooded all four chambers of his heart. It all came back—the good, the bad, the sweet, the unbearably painful—and he knew, in that moment, looking down at Hailey’s hand wrapped around his, her grip surprisingly strong, that those pudgy little fingers had the ability to squeeze the life out of him.
And probably would.
“You did what?” Matt asked, then turned his attention back to his driving, easing Caroline’s car onto the highway outside the county juvenile facility.
“I filled out an application to become the twins’ permanent foster parent.”
Matt shook his head incredulously. “How in God’s name are you going to make a go of a day-care business if none of your students pay tuition?”
Caroline smiled, refusing to let his doubt drag her down. So what if Jeb’s tuition came in the form of a trade for his mother’s counseling services to her other families, and of course Hailey, and now the twins, didn’t bring in a penny? Caroline didn’t care about money. She was still riding high from her afternoon at the juvenile center. Not only had she found Maxine and Rosie healthy and happy, but Matt had passed the Hailey test.
Aced it, actually.
She grinned, remembering the sight of his long legs stretched out in a shady spot of grass, his upper body propped up and leaning over the baby carrier. He’d been smiling. Smiling at his daughter.
It was an image she’d carry with her forever, like a lucky charm. On that charm she’d already made a wish—that Hailey would grow up with a daddy who loved her. Even if he didn’t love her mommy.
“Caroline?” Matt asked.
She jerked, yanked back to reality. Tuition. Right.
“I’ll have plenty of paying students. I’ve got six summer students signed—”
“Six?” He shook his head. “Jesus, Caroline. How are you going to manage all that, plus Hailey, Jeb and the twins?”
“I’ll hire help.”
“Which will cost even more money.”
“I’m not doing it for the money.”
He snorted. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
“Oh, so you know everything, do you?” Caroline’s good mood slipped to
ward foul. From the expression on Matt’s face, she’d say his was headed that way, too. Well, the hell with it. She was tired of tiptoeing around his feelings. “Then why don’t you tell me why I’m working my tail off to get this day care opened, if not for the money.”
Matt exhaled noisily.
“Come on,” she jeered. “Don’t clam up now. Why do you think I’m doing it?”
“I’d like to hear why you think you’re doing it.”
That did it. She nearly came out of her seat belt, she surged forward so hard. With one hand braced on the dashboard, she turned to face him. “Don’t you do that to me, Matt.”
He looked her way, his brows drawn, then turned back at the road. “Do what?”
“Talk to me like I’m one of your hostage takers.” She counted off on her fingers. “One—determine the H.T.’s goals. Two—determine the needs behind those goals. Three—validate the needs. Four—suggest an alternate course of action for meeting the needs. I’ve read your damned training manual. I’ve played the bad guy in department exercises, remember? I know the drill.”
She sagged against the seat, her anger depleted. Nearly. “I don’t want to be another exercise for you. A job. I know exactly why I’m opening a day-care center. I want to hear why you think I’m doing it.”
Matt glanced into the rearview mirror, frowned, and angled the car into the right-hand lane on the freeway. He was silent so long she thought the discussion was over; that she wasn’t going to get an answer. But when he turned his attention off the road, and back onto her, something in his shuttered gaze held her transfixed.
“How many kids is it going to take?” he asked softly. “How many children do you have to surround yourself with before you forget about the one you lost?”
It was May, but a January chill seeped into Caroline’s bones. She curbed the demented laugh that welled up inside her before it reached her mouth.
Well, she’d asked, hadn’t she?
“You’re wrong, Matt. I like having kids around because they help me remember Brad, not forget him. Every time I look at one of them, I remember, and it feels good.” She should have stopped there, but his accusation stung, now that the shock had worn off. She was feeling the need to sting back. “You’re the one who’s trying to forget.”
Keeping Caroline Page 10
